The Shattering
by HeadlessHorseman
Summary: A young stallion of a rebellion is sent to destroy the Hallow Hills. Only one thing stands in his way. Her. R
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Prologue

* * *

Milkath

* * *

The colt ran. His breath came out in icy white spurts that dwindled lazily towards the heavens. His hooves pounded on the frozen earth, sliding and slipping as he ran, all grace forgotten, towards home. His coat was the color of autumn leaves, pied with a pale gold. His mane and tail were both golden, matching the splashes that formed on his coat. Half grown and lanky, the colt was handsome, and vain. Had his pride not interfered, he may not have been in this situation, but it had, and he was.

His heart crashed continuously like a roaring waterfall, so loud that he was certain that the world would hear it. He _could not_ be caught! Had Belk not repeated that sentence over and over again? He _could not_ be caught! Panic washed over him afresh even as he wrestled it to the back of his mind.

"Keep your focus!" the colt hissed to himself. If he lost that, it was over. If he lost that, the entire rebellion would perish, _and_ it would be his fault.

Milkath glanced behind him, and felt, rather than saw, the fully grown unicorn giving chase. He let out an oath and spurred himself faster. He had the disadvantage of a lighter weight, at the speed he was going, he wouldn't be able to stop in time for anything that may have blocked the path ahead. He would just have to hope that the footing had no abrupt changes.

Luck was not on his side. Before the colt, the path cut off abruptly to a cliff with a river in the chasm below. Instead of slowing his pace, the colt pushed faster still, and heard the stallion break behind him. Milkath shoved his green-gold eyes closed and launched off of the cliff, leaving land and the enemy behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One

Chapter One

* * *

Silgra

_

* * *

_

Four years later…

The mare shook herself awake, growling with frustration. That was the_ fifth_ time that she had had that dream. The_ fifth_ time she'd seen the colt throw himself from the cliff, the _fifth_ time that she'd heard of the so called rebellion.

Shaking her head, the mare stood. Why was she the only one who had the same stupid dream more than once? Especially when it wasn't even real! There was no colt named Milkath, and there certainly wasn't any rebellion. There weren't even any other unicorns! All of them were _here_, in the Hallow Hills where they should be.

And yet she couldn't quite dismiss the colt's face. Something about it was too clear, too emotionless, too _real_, to be fictional. But if he wasn't real, and he wasn't just a dream, then what was he? A ghost? A memory?

The mare rolled her eyes, momentarily defeated. Her blue gray form moved towards the nearby river, black mane and tail streaming in the wind. Her eyes, a stony gray, roamed the sky, searching for something that they would never find while open.

"Silgra?"

The Mare turned, smiling at the sight of her friend, Jestal.

"Good morning." He said, returning her grin.

She nodded, glancing away again.

"Are you hale?" he asked, icy blue eyes narrowed suspiciously.

She smiled, "I'm fine."

"Really?" he asked sarcastically, eyes rising.

Silgra sighed, "I had that dream again." She admitted quietly. Jestal was the only one she had ever told. Her sire and Dam would never have understood.

His gaze clouded with sympathy. "Anything new?"

She shook her head, once again annoyed, surely if the dream was that important it would have given her more information, something she could use.

Jestal hesitated, "I think that you should tell Ijak."

Silgra shook her head, "No way, I'm not telling him, and neither are you."

"Why not?" The stallion growled, his amber coat almost bristling. "He's your sire! He's the prince! He can help!"

"Or he could hinder." She replied.

"You should trust him more." Jestal said, "You owe him that."

Silgra ignored him.

"There's a moon dance tonight, you coming?"

She nodded.

"Fine, I'll see you there." In response to her sharp glance, he added, "I won't say anything. But you should."

"Isn't that _my_ decision?" Silgra challenged.

He rolled his eyes and walked away.

"It's not your job to tell a princessling what to do, Jestal. Be sure that you keep your place." She snarled.

His muscles hardened visibly and he replied, "Apologies, _your_ _nobleness_."

As soon as he was gone, Silgra felt guilty, but wasn't about to apologize. That wasn't how she was taught to behave.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Two

Milkath

"Kath, you ready?"

The crimson and gold stallion frowned, thinking on it for a moment, listening to the bouncing beat of his heart. Oh, Alma, he was nervous. He stood still as a mountain face, not really breathing, not really moving.

Dar snorted, "_Don't_ tell me that you're afraid."

Milkath clenched his jaw, glancing away from his black shoulder friend.

He laughed, "You've got to be kidding me, Kath! You jump off immeasurably tall cliffs, but you're afraid of talking to Janq?"

Milkath sighed, shoulder twitching, "_Yes_. Did it ever cross your mind that he was the one who sent me on that mission in the first place? That I wouldn't have jumped off said cliff in the first place unless the rebellion depended on it?" The pied stallion snapped; a muscle in his leg clenching. He did _not_ want a repeat of his foal hood. He'd learnt that lesson to the degree of crystal clarity.

"Kath, you wouldn't be alone this time, come on!" Dar pressed.

Milkath growled inwardly, glancing at the slightly crooked form of his foreleg. He remembered every moment of the fall. He could feel the sensation of air whistling through his coat and of gravity, pulling him ever downward…

The gold and red stallion shook himself, "Fine, lead on."

Dar grinned and started off at a ground covering trot, Milkath on his tail.

***

As they approached Janq in his clearing, it took every ounce of Kath's willpower to deny his instinct to run. He _knew_ that the leader would give him a mission of the same type as before. Infiltration of the Hallow Hills. He winced at the memory of the place's tall winding hills, and the clear dark pool of the moon. He thought of the slippery earth covered in ice, of the pounding of his heart as he approached the cliff.

"Milkath," The leader of The Rebellion greeted with a long twisting smile. The stallion's violet coat shifted in the shadows, seemingly able to transform into any monster as the pied stallion watched.

A snort escaped Kath's muzzle, _and Dar asked why I was afraid?_ "Good morn' Janq." He replied dutifully.

"Ah, to you as well," The leader replied, smile fading to a less enthusiastic twist. "Please make yourself comfortable, Kath."

The pied stallion's soldier- like stance remained stubbornly.

Janq chuckled, "All right then, I'll try to be brief. You are, I'm sure, completely aware of The Rebellion's noble history?"

"Yes, your point?" Kath retorted sharply.

"My _point_," Janq snorted, "Is that I expect every member involved to proudly uphold and honor that history. That meaning that failure will not be tolerated. Milkath, I am giving you a chance to redeem yourself as a valued member of this operation. If you succeed, all of our waiting and Belk's death will not have been in vain. I am asking you and Dar to go on a mission to the Hills."

Kath frowned, "Why us?"

Janq shrugged his gaze careless, "_You_ have proved yourself immensely capable in the past, and I am taking a bit of a gamble with that as you can be inconsistent. Dar would go because of his remarkable ability to keep your mind focused."

"Would we be going alone?" The pied stallion asked.

The violet leader shrugged again, "Tarak of course would accompany you, seeing as Dar is a useless fighter and you can't be expected –"

"_Tarak_?" Kath snorted: "No deal."

Janq rolled his eyes, "Milkath, I don't think that you understand. I am offering you a spot in the climax of our campaign. _This will be the way we take over the hills_."

The pied stallion froze; glancing at Dar's elated face. Had they not both dreamed of being a part of this plot sense foal hood? In a moment, Kath's mind was decided, "We accept," he told the leader quietly.

Janq grinned widely, "Excellent. Now, Milkath, understand that you will have the most difficult part in our plan. You must win the heart of the princessling; do you think that you can succeed?"

Kath smirked, "Consider your will accomplished."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Silgra

The blue- gray mare watched as the ring of unicorns twisted and mingled, dancing flirtatiously, dancing soulfully, and in most cases; badly. Normally she would view their movements a beautiful, as graceful, as the Children of the moon should be. Tonight was the Moondance, and she did not feel like dancing with any of the stallions present. She could try and enter the ring alone, but she was certain that some impertinent colt or reckless young stallion would ruin it by trying to cheer her up. 'I'm fine,' she thought angrily, ' I don't need any cheer thank you very much.'

"Hail, Silgra,"

Speak of the devil and he shall appear…

Well, Jestal was not quite the devil, but close enough.

She nodded ungraciously in his direction, trying to put out a very strong 'leave me alone 'vibe.

Jestal rolled his eyes and ground his teeth, "What's wrong with you? Huh?"

Silgra almost growled, did he have to make her say it? "Leave me alone, Jes."

"Very well," he snapped, "but it's not like he's going to show up you know!"

Her eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?"

"Milked, that colt from your dream, he's not going to be here. If he ever was real, he's dead now. Move on."

"Milkath," Silgra growled, "his name is Milkath."

Jes shook his head, "It doesn't matter! He's not here, and starving yourself of every other company won't summon him."

"I ban you from the Pool Of the Moon tonight, Jes, unless you wish for it to be so next month as well, leave me now."

The stallion turned away, leaving Silgra feeling even more miserable than before. More miserable, because she knew that he was right, she couldn't stop thinking about that colt.

She watched the dancers and the moon for a long while, and fended off about ten offers to dance. She had hoped that more of them would shy away from her savage glare. Apparently young stallions were more stubborn than she had originally thought. She practically had to bite their heads off to get the response she desired.

"Why aren't you dancing?"

The voice was soft and smooth like a spring breeze, and not quite like any that belonged to that of a vale unicorn. Her heart beat faster; a rennagade? She stiffened and decided to ignore the stranger, but at the same time was ready to swing around and slash him with her horn.

The stallion cleared his throat and she heard his tail swish. He was obviously expecting an answer.

She swallowed and decided that he was probably a newcomer and didn't understand that she was most definitely, out of his reach. She would just explain this to him and send him off on his merry way.

Silgra turned and glanced over the stranger. His coat was the color of autumn leaves, pied with a pale gold. His mane and tail were both golden, matching the splashes that formed on his coat.

Her breath caught in her throat and the stallion's wandering greenish- gold eyes met hers; questioning.

Silgra couldn't help it, she screamed. It wasn't a yelp, or a gasp, or a half scream that stopped halfway from her mouth, it was a _loud _scream that halted all activity in the clearing.

The pied stallion stomped a few times at an invisible something in the grass and called over to the herd hoarsely, "Just a snake, I got it!"

Much to her surprise, the herd seemed to accept this answer and everyone went back to their dancing.

He then turned to her with an expression that was half smirk and half glare. "Did I scare you or something?"

Silgra stared at the dream colt and spluttered, "No- yes- who are you?" The moment that the words left her mouth, she almost wanted to hear anything but what she knew he would say.

"My names' Milkath, but most call me Kath."

Silgra's jaw opened slightly.

"Please!" he said sharply, "Don't. Scream. Again."

She clamped her jaw shut, "What are you doing here?"

He smirked, " Asking you why you aren't dancing."

"No!" she snapped, "I mean in the hallow hills."

He shrugged, "My shoulder friends and I were born renegades on the plains. We came across signs of your herd and decided to drop in for a chat with your leader." He paused, "I don't suppose you could arrange something of the sort?"

Silgra considered him mildly, "I'll talk to my grandsire…Milkath."


	5. Chapter 5

Authors Note: I would just like to extend thanks to those of you who have read and supplied feedback for this story. Your comments really help; I apologize for my rather sloppy work and hope that it will be longer and more satisfying in the future. (Thanks to Audrey33 for pointing this out to me.=)

Chapter Five

Milkath

This assignment should have come with a disclaimer, Kath growled inwardly. How could he have been stupid enough to think that this was going to be simple; easy? He had played the mare's response over and over in his head. He smiles charmingly, about to introduce himself, and she screams. Tarak would never let him forget it.

Kath walked at a medium pace back towards the camp they had set up just outside the hills. The songs of the moondance had long sense faded from the milky air, but he would rather have another fake battle with the invisible snake than go back to Tarak and Dar. The earlier would have a teasing and sarcastic attitude for the rest of the week at least. He could hear it now. "This is the stallion that will determine the success of The Rebellion? We may as well return to Janq now."

Dar would be his polar opposite. He would attack every day with a renewed vengeance of optimism. "That was just bad luck, tomorrow she'll be better!" Or Kath's personal favorite, "It's not you, friend, it's her."

He wasn't entirely sure which one would bother him more. Maybe going on a mission alone was a blessing in disguise.

If Kath was completely honest with himself, sending the three of them on a mission together was a recipe for disaster. Sure, Dar was very proficient at keeping his mind focused, but Tarak was equally skilled in annoying and distracting him to no end. No. This was not going to turn to ruin. He was not going to fail again, no matter how mad he was driven by the two of them. If he succeeded, it would mean the end of the rebellion, no more life threatening missions- for anyone. Just one more battle, one more set of deaths, and then it all would be over.

He hardly noticed when he came across Dar and Tarak.

"Hey, bad luck, Friend."

"You think maybe I should have a try? Only _you_ could yield such a bad first impression."

"It's not his fault; she's obviously not in her right mind. It'll be better in the morning."

"Yes." Tarak snorted, "And Milkath might learn to fly."

Dar glared.

"What, do you see him sprouting Gryph wings?"

Kath's shoulder friend stomped a hoof, a wild gleam in his eye, "Yes! Yes I do!"

Oh Alma. They weren't going to change any time soon. "Hist!" He snarled. "We have been granted an audience with the king upon tomorrows' mid-light." Kath paused to glare at them, "Until then, will both of you please just lay low?"

Both stallions stared at him in surprise and nodded somewhat begrudgingly. Tarak rolled his eyes and walked off, well out of earshot, but still in sight.

Dar moved next to Kath's side. "So," he asked, "Any idea why she screamed?"

"Not any that make sense."

"That was really strange…but good thinking about the 'snake." He laughed. Dar's coat was a cinnamon brown that was frosted in places with silver. Almost like a beach coated in a layer of moonlight. His eyes were large, but a soft cream in color, and kind. "What are you going to do?"

Kath shrugged, "What I do best."

"What if she doesn't like you? What if you can't infiltrate the herd?"

He laughed, "I've already done it once, how hard could it be to do it again?"

Dar made a face, "But Belk was with you then, he knew a lot about them, and he knew how to get in."

"So do I. don't worry, she'll find me irresistible soon enough. Be patient, we only just met."

The cinnamon unicorn frowned, "But what if someone recognizes you, like the one that chased you off of the cliff?"

Kath laughed aloud, "He saw me go off the edge, Dar. The edge of a cliff that was higher than seventy unicorns stacked one on top of the other. Do you really think that he expected me to survive?"

He snorted, "You were insanely lucky to have done so. Why did you jump anyway? Surely there was a better way?"

The pied unicorn laughed again, "When you're running all out from a fully grown unicorn wider muscled than he is tall on an icy path that could spell disaster from a stumble; your brain doesn't weigh options very well. After I saw what he did to Belk, that cliff looked mighty friendly."

"Besides, had I been caught, that would have been it. We would be finished because they would have fished every detail of our operation out of me before they killed me. Either way, it would have ended with me and the cliff."

Dar snorted quietly, "You wouldn't have given him an ounce of information. You're too bloody obstinate."

Kath laughed, "Not then I wasn't. I was too scared to be anything but a crazy, reckless runaway."

"But Seriously, Kath, you haven't changed that much sense foal hood."

"Thanks." The pied stallion snorted.

Dar shook his head, "I meant your coat. It hasn't changed at all, and your attitude's the same. Even if they don't remember those things- unlikely- not another soul on Alma's great plain has your color of eyes."

"Will you please relax; I know what I'm doing." Kath assured him. "Even if someone does recognize me, there's nothing for them to prove. Even the black that pursued me really didn't have anything to put against me. He just gave chase because I ran. For all he knows, I was just a frightened, innocent little colt that ran away from the scary monster. We have nothing to worry about, Dar. Belk didn't give them any weapons."

The cinnamon brown snorted, "But he gave_ us_ plenty."

Kath nodded; he certainly had. Those unicorns would never know what hit them: at least, not until they were all as lifeless as his mentor's pale corpse.


End file.
